


Memories Adrift

by d0g-bless (d0gbless)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Amnesia, Boats and Ships, Disguise, F/M, Letters, Message in a bottle, Period-Typical Sexism, Pirates, Sexism, Sirens, Slave Trade, Slaves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-03-18 01:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18975937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0gbless/pseuds/d0g-bless
Summary: The consequences Pidge will face if her plan fails share the same end, though the means differ: death by hanging, death by drowning, or worst of all, death at her mother’s hands for bringing shame and dishonor to the Holt name. But none of them matter. Not if she’s to find her family, supposedly lost at sea, until she discovered her brother's SOS message in a bottle.However, the only person who knows the location of her beloved brother and father is the last person she expects: the Black Lion, the Champion of the Seas — the pirate every child hears in legend, then grows up to discover he's not real.But as Pidge learns, the Black Lion is much more than an old wives' tale, and his story and her own may be deeply intertwined...





	1. Chapter 1

2 Kerberos crew members are alive. Captured on Empire slave ship, _The Daibazaal_. Help.

* * *

She can’t bring herself to forget the morning her father and brother set sail for their expedition to the New World, watching the blush of dawn paint the glittering ocean purple, reveling in the warmth and weight of her father’s arms, listening to the cries of gulls and her brother’s promise to write her, tasting the salt from her tears mingled with seawater splashed by the rowboat as it carried her family away from her and toward _The Kerberos._

That memory is seared into her mind, cemented even more firmly now as she prepares for her own voyage, one that follows the one her beloved father and brother took that morning, never to return.

The consequences she will face if her plan fails share the same end, though the means differ: death by hanging, death by drowning, or worst of all, death at her mother’s hands for bringing shame and dishonor to the Holt name. But none of them matter. Not if she’s to find her family.

She carries on her person a satchel filled with provisions that should last her a month or two, just enough to get her to the nearest harbor: a sharp steel knife, flint, a tattered book, letters, and bottles, both empty and filled with parchment, quills, and ink. All she needs now is a boat.

She casts a glance toward the seaside cottage she calls home, hoping the locks of hair she sheared off and her best dresses she instructed her mother to sell in a note she left will be enough to keep her mum afloat. The Garrison’s pension may be enough for Colleen to slide by, but it may not be enough come winter.

With one final look and a heavy heart, Katie, like her father and brother, is gone.

Pidge Gunderson pushes on ahead, leaving Katie Holt behind.

* * *

By the time Pidge reaches the docks, it is pitch-black with nary a lantern flickering in sight.

Just as planned.

Pidge inspects the sailboats tied to the docks. She knows enough about boats to know what to look for, thanks to her brother and father’s nautical knowledge. Though women are rarely allowed to set foot on a boat, the Holts were of scientific-minded and cared little for superstitions. Rather than let fear of a curse hold them back, they encouraged Pidge to hop on deck and sail alongside them.

After encountering a few ships that weren’t to her liking (too big for one person, too sticky of a tiller, rigging in dire need of repair, holes in the sails), she finally finds one that’s perfect. Matt would’ve called it a catboat — a sailboat meant for one or two people. It’s complete with nets and a few other odds and ends she can utilize for catching and cooking fish. It’s not anchored, only tied to the dock with a thick strand of rope.

 _She’s perfect_.

Taking her knife, Pidge begins to cut through the rope. The process takes several minutes for the rope to finally fall away, freeing the boat from the docks.

Pidge leaps on board and tugs on a rope, unfurling the sail.

The gods must be on her side, as the wind nudges against the sail, assisting the boat to glide across the sea, like a parent teaching their child to skate on an icy pond.

Though the dawn of a new day shines on the sea, a shadow lurks beyond the horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to update every Sunday; no guarantees, but I am sure going to try.

To My Dearest Pidge,

I hope you received this letter, and more importantly, were able to decode this one. Being the highly intelligent young woman you are, I am certain you have and are contemplating tossing it in the fireplace based on how I addressed you alone.  But I am also certain you miss me, your beloved big brother, far too much to do such a thing.

As you already know, I’m not supposed to be sending you letters on this expedition, but you know what I say: What the Garrison doesn’t know won’t hurt them.

All is well with me if you discount the seasickness I’ve experienced during the first week or so. You’d think after all the time we’ve spent on boats together this wouldn’t be an issue.  As for Dad, he doesn’t have any issues with seasickness — even though he’ll say he’s “a scientist first and a sailor second,” he’s clearly an excellent sailor.

Speaking of sailors, we have a very fine captain — so fine that even Dad keeps telling him about you, his only daughter.

I know you’ll kick me in the shin for saying so, but I do believe Captain Shirogane would make an excellent match for you, Pidgey. He is ruggedly handsome, and like yours truly, highly intelligent. Just yesterday we talked for hours on end about our favorite explorers and mathematicians. He has a keen sense of navigation — he relies mainly on the stars! Reminds me of someone else I know…

When Dad and I return, I expect Captain Shirogane will be joining us for dinner, so be sure to wear your Sunday best.

Until Then,

Matthew Holt

* * *

The pain is blinding as thunder is deafening. It pounds at the back of his skill, throbbing with each heartbeat.

His lungs sear as they fill with the raw sting of salt water. He’s sinking, drowning, resigned to his fate, it’s better than the one he fled, that much he knows. It’s all he knows, in fact.

All struggles back up to the surface cease.

He closes his eyes, ready for Death’s embrace. Though his eyes are closed, his ears are not. He hears a melodic voice, like nothing he’s ever heard before — is this Death lulling him to his final watery grave?

Before he can fully process what’s happening, he blacks out.

When he comes to, a pair of sparkling blue eyes hover over his, and a gentle hand cups his face.

“Wake up.”

Those same eyes look down at him as he jolts out of bed, chest heaving. “Don’t startle me like that, Allura.”

“Another nightmare, Shiro?” Allura takes the man’s place on the bed and wrinkles her nose — the sheets are damp with sweat, confirming the answer to the question Shiro will deny. Not that she gives him an opportunity to do so. “You know, I can make it so you can have a dreamless sleep.”

Shiro doesn’t harbor any doubts about Allura’s abilities. The young siren had saved his life, after all, though he doesn’t quite know the constraints and rules of her magic. Until he’d met her, he hadn’t known that sirens and mercreatures are two very different beasts. Mercreatures were spirits of the water; sirens, however, were spirits of the air and wind. While mercreatures had more… animalistic appearances, sirens looked as human as he did, give or take a pair of wings easily hidden with a simple glamour.

“I think I’ll pass for now.” Shiro works off his nightshirt, and Allura watches with the utmost interest. Scores of pink and red scars claw their way down his back from all directions. Even with the best siren healers at Allura’s disposal, there was only so much they could do to heal the ugly gashes. Most of their focus went into ensuring he didn’t bleed out from the loss of his right arm.

“Did you remember something?”

Shiro pauses — not because he remembered anything (at least, not anything new this time around), but his clunky mechanical arm catches on his sleeve. He grumbles and pulls it through, ripping the sleeve wide open. “No!”

Allura stiffens at the outburst. “You didn’t have to answer my question like that.”

“It’s not that. This stupid arm just tore my new shirt.” He sighs. “I can’t even remember what happened to my arm, but I know that it wasn’t this hard to get dressed.”

“Maybe it needs some upgrades. We just need to find someone who’s good with repairs.”

A hollow laugh fills the cabin. “Who in these waters will want to help the Black Lion? I mean, come on, Allura — every Empire slave ship captain out here thinks it’s a legend.”

“Isn’t that why you wanted to bring that legendary pirate back to life? To spark hope in the lives of those living in fear? To free slaves?”

Shiro looks at his prosthetic limb and thinks about how great it will be to rip apart the bastard who did this to him. “Something like that.”

“Good.” Allura hops up and opens the cabin door. “Because we’ve found ourselves a ship to take down, and it’s a big one!” She grabs Shiro by his left hand and drags him out, grinning from ear to ear.

Shiro, though still not entirely dressed, can’t help but return Allura’s smile. Siren magic or no, she sure does have a way to spread hope and love. He’s grateful she wanted to join him on this journey — a great risk for siren royalty such as herself.

“Now hurry up and get ready to take her down — those Galra aren’t going to be falling asleep to the sound of my voice forever.”

Not to mention having a siren as part of a crew makes for a huge advantage. “Great work, Allura.” He cups his hands around his mouth to amplify his orders: “First Mate Keith, take the helm and set course for that ship — close enough so I can leap over to the deck once I’m fully equipped. Quartermaster Coran, prepare the cannons and wait for my signal to fire.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Most certainly, Captain!”

Before turning back into his cabin to get fully dressed, Shiro glares at the ominous Galra Empire slave ship in the distance.

He’ll get his revenge… and hopefully whatever it is he’s looking for, whatever that may be…

* * *

She’s barely two weeks into her journey, and Pidge is already in trouble. She still has plenty of food to get by, but it’s already been eaten. Her ship is still intact, but it isn’t exactly hers anymore — not that it belonged to her in the first place.

“What a beautiful sailboat you’ve got there. Don’t you fret; we’ll take good care of it, won’t we, Haxus?”

“Aye, Captain Sendak.” Haxus’ lips curl back in a sneer, revealing sharp teeth, probably filed into fangs. Or dentures made from shark teeth. Pidge isn’t sure which it is, but regardless, it’s a little unnerving. “A pretty little thing, en’t she?”

The color drains from Pidge’s face. _Was my disguise that bad?_ She shakes her head. _No, if it was, they would’ve flung me off this ship and left me behind to drown by now._

Sendak flashes a toothy grin as he holds Pidge up by the back of her shirt, as though she’s no more than a troublesome kitten. “Though I can’t guarantee you’ll be taken care of where you’re going, boy.”

Pidge tries to wriggle free from his hold, but there’s no point to doing so; this Empire slaver nabbed her and her ship in tow. She’s as good as gone. Or as gold.

Foolishly, Sendak pokes and prods Pidge’s chin with a burly index finger. “You’ll fetch a pretty penny with a pretty fa — youch!”

After biting his finger, Pidge spits in Sendak’s face. The bastard’s grip fails to waver. In fact, it grows stronger. There’s an explosive pain in Pidge’s back when Sendak slams her against the wall. “Why, I oughta…”

Haxus clears his throat, and Sendak whirls around at him and roars. “What?”

“He’ll fetch us no gold if he’s damaged, Captain.”

Sendak’s nostrils flare and his jaw tightens at Haxus’ remark. If Pidge wasn’t in his clutches, she’s certain he would have struck Haxus then and there. Maybe even killed him. _Perhaps rank is important amongst the Galra people — or at least this ship. That could be useful._

“Are you really going to let your subordinate officer talk to you in such a manner? Why, if _I_ were you, I wouldn’t let him live a moment longer.”

Haxus gulps and falls to his knees. “Sendak, please, don’t listen to him! I’ll behave, I swear.”

A low guttural sound shakes Sendak from deep within his belly. It takes Pidge a moment to realize it’s a laugh. “We’ve ourselves a clever one, hm? You’ll fetch far more than a pretty penny. Haxus, I’ll be escorting this one to his quarters.”

* * *

The so-called quarters are overcrowded cells filled with people of all colors and backgrounds. People whisper to one another in multiple languages and scurry away like rats when Sendak barges through.

“Since you’re pretty _and_ smart, we’ll put you with some people who are… more of your caliber. Can’t have you getting ugly and stupid with disease.” Sendak tosses her into a cell with only two other people in it — and manages have her slam into one. “Until then, you’ll be here with the rest of our… best sellers.” He makes that deep laughing sound again, echoing throughout the quarters as he exits for the upper deck.

“Are you alright?”

“You got hit with him, and you’re the one asking _him_ if he’s alright, Hunk?”

“Lance, we have someone here who’s probably deathly afraid and doesn’t know what’s going on. Have a little patience, will you?”

Pidge rubs the back of her head and groans. “That Sendak guy is crazy strong.”

“And mean, don’t forget mean.” The young man she landed on offers her his hand. “I’m Hunk.” He tilts his head toward the other person stuck in here with them. “And that’s Lance. He’s a chatterbox, but he means well.”

She takes his hand and shakes it. “Pidge. Pidge Gunderson.”

Lance crinkles his nose. “What the heck is a Gunderson? And is Pidge even a real name?”

“Yes, it’s mine. So, what’s the plan?”

Hunk and Lance exchange confused looks. “Plan?”

“Yeah, a plan to escape.”

Hunk lets out a low whistle. “Uh, wow, you are new here, aren’t you?”

“Of course! I just got here, as you should be well aware of.” Wait. Unless… “You mean…”

“Escaping is impossible and we should just give up.” Lance blows a raspberry. “Hunk’s just a chicken who’s not a big fan of adventure, that’s all.”

“Lance, getting 50 lashes isn’t exactly what I’d call an adventure, OK? We’re on a slave ship. An _Empire_ slave ship.”

“It _could_ be an adventure, if you know what I mean.”

Pidge looks to Hunk for help. Clarification. Anything.

“Don’t ask,” he says with a sigh. “You don’t want to know what it means. But seriously, escaping is out of the question. Impossible. I mean, the only way out would be if the legendary Black Lion saved us, like he did in those stories, and we all know the odds of that. It’s a faerie tale, nothing new.”

The ship groans and creaks with movement. Thunder crackles overhead, followed by a splash or two.

“Oh, no,” Hunk says. “No, no, no… please, no.” He covers his mouth with both hands and makes a retching sound. “Oh, no, please, no.”

“What’s he going on about?”

Lance shakes his head. “Poor guy gets seasick like no other. We’ve been here, what, probably a couple of months?”

She arches a brow. “He’s still not over it?”

Vomit splatters on the wooden floor.

“And there’s your answer.”

Wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve, Hunk takes a deep breath. “In my defense, I’ve gotten a lot better. It’s just storms that really make it bad.”

“That’s funny,” Pidge says. “There were no clouds or signs of storms above deck.”

The ship lurches to the right — starboard, Pidge remembers. It’s not a slow movement or turn in that direction; it’s a full-on tilt. She waits for it to start turning back the other direction or to slow down. It doesn’t.

Crates and barrels start to tumble over to the opposite side of the ship. Galley slaves scream and cry out in languages Pidge doesn’t know but are universally understood: Something is wrong above deck, and if somebody doesn’t step up to the helm, this ship is going to flip over, and everyone down here will drown when the ship sinks.

“We’re going to die,” Lance whispers. He grips the cell bar until his knuckles go white. “We’re all going to die.”

“No, we’re not,” Hunk says. He stands up and rams himself against the cell door. “Not without a fight, at least.” He rushes the door again and again and again, and even though Pidge knows it won’t work, she joins in. Better to go down swinging than do nothing at all. After a few more rounds, Lance decides to give it a go, too.

“Allura, did you find the keys?” The voice is muffled but the words are clear.

Pidge leans against the cool metal of the cell bars for a moment. “Hunk, is there a guard named Allura?”

“No,” he manages to pant out. “There’s not.”

She looks to Lance. “Lance, I’ve barely known you for an hour, but I know you’ve got the biggest mouth around here.”

“Hey!”

“And that big mouth of yours is going to save us,” Pidge continues. “Shout ‘Help us’ or something like that.”

Lance shoots Pidge the biggest grin she’s ever seen. “Me, a hero, huh? OK, I’m game.” He lets out an ear-splitting cry: “Help! We need help! Down here!”

The sound of footsteps descending down steps grows louder and louder. “Allura, down here.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” There’s a jangling sound and a “good catch.” Cell doors creak open and slam shut. “Go, go, go. Jump to the other ship. You’ll know which one.”

Those sounds crescendo until finally, a man stops at their cell. The rhythm from early is broken, though, for he pauses with a wide-eyed stare at Pidge; something like recognition sparks in his eyes, though Pidge hasn’t seen this man in her life.

“We don’t have time for whatever the hell this is!” Lance snaps. “Open the damn door!”

That snaps the man out of his reverie and back into action. “Go. There’s another ship; it’s an easy jump over. You’ll know which one it is.”

Her companions flee the scene before she does; finally, Pidge nods, and without a word, runs to the deck to the strangest sight she’s ever seen.

The entire crew is sleeping. She hears a couple splashes. She isn’t sure what makes that sound until she sees one of the crew members sleepwalk over to the edge of the boat and fall to the watery depths of the sea.

“Pidge, Pidge, over here!” Lance and Hunk wave and shout from the boat — and wow, that man wasn’t kidding when he said they’d know it.

“Holy crow.”

The flag fluttering in the wind is white, and printed on it is a roaring black lion.


End file.
